


In The Moment We're Lost And Found

by burninghoneyatdusk



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Because we all know it will be in a few months, F/M, First Time, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post Season 6, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24051169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burninghoneyatdusk/pseuds/burninghoneyatdusk
Summary: If she’s ever lost, unable to carry on herself, there is no one she trusts more with her heart, her soul, her body, than Bellamy. There will be times that she has no control, just like she didn’t when Russell took her, but she trusts that when she does fall, Bellamy will bring her back. He’ll always come back for her.----Clarke and Bellamy sleep together for the first time, but Clarke is haunted by her past relationships and her latest experience being body snatched by the Primes.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 54
Kudos: 330





	In The Moment We're Lost And Found

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elora_Lane](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elora_Lane/gifts).



> HAPPY TRAILER DAY EVERYONE. Because we'll never get such a happy ending for S7, this fic assumes everyone lives in season 7 and makes it back happily to Earth. If only. 
> 
> Inspired by this ask (https://burninghoneyatdusk.tumblr.com/post/616675881018114048/dudette-clarke-has-got-to-have-so-much-ptsd), and countless other conversations with KT where we screamed about bellarke first time fluff. 
> 
> Title is from the song 'Wings' by Birdy which is just, a song for every OTP ever and made for fanvids.
> 
> As always, feel free to hit me up on tumblr @burninghoneyatdusk

Clarke closes her eyes, taking a break from the drawing she’s been working on. When she opens them, she gazes at the valley below her. She can feel the sun on her face. She can see the trees that surround the society they’ve been building from the ground up since they returned to Earth two months ago. She breathes in deeply, savoring the scent of wildflowers on the breeze. Wildflowers that surround her in the meadow she’s currently sitting in. The ground. It was their dream, their religion, since before she could remember. It was the hope they clung to when they were trapped in a box in the sky. It was the hope  _ she _ clung to when she was trapped in an even smaller box, all alone. It was the dream, to return to their true home. The dream was at last, reality.

It was incredible what they had managed to accomplish in such a short amount of time, especially given the histories of the people who now make up their singular society. It was a diverse group - those from Sanctum who wanted to return to Earth with them, those Eligius passengers who were looking for a second chance, and what was left of Wonkru, a diverse group in itself made up of all twelve clans and the sky people. Her friends of course, too. The ones she had watched rocket into space without her, minus Monty and Harper. Her daughter, and the man who she had called everyday for six years. They were all her people now.

It was during their trip back to Earth that Diyoza shared with Clarke what had been Kane’s vision for them, and it was Diyoza who had helped bring that vision to life. In the valley that Clarke overlooks now, are the workshop, the mill, the trading post. A school, one with a playground like Diyoza had wanted, despite that Hope is too old for it now. A large farm had been plowed to the left of the village center, and different groups of houses spread out beyond the village. Each group of a dozen or so houses had a well at its center, where people could gather to talk and debate ideas, just as Kane had dreamed. 

Of course, most important to Clarke was the Abby Griffin Medical Center. It was one of the first buildings constructed and had come together under Jackson’s leadership. He was the chief doctor now but was working hard to train others, Clarke amongst them. She had spent so much time destroying, but the commander of death wanted a second chance at what she had always dreamed of doing - healing.

Her friends breathe life into the vision, Clarke’s heart light as she looks down on them. Even from a distance, she can see Raven’s pony tail swinging as she hurries from task to task in the workshop, Emori trailing close behind. She can see Murphy and Miller leading the construction of yet another group of houses. The youngest children play near the one room school house and Clarke can see Madi laughing with kids her age near the well at the center of their housing circle. 

Everyone is busy, but it’s a leisurely kind of busy. One that feels purposeful instead of desperate. One that allowed you to take a step back when you needed a moment to yourself. Buildings are constructed and decisions are made, but in a time of peace, not war. Strategies, brainstormed by a council consisting of all the groups that came together to form their society, are aimed at improving life instead of waging war. After everything she’s been through, sometimes Clarke feels weary about it all. Was it really possible that they could do this? Could they really live peaceful lives, not marred by violence and war? Somedays it seemed like an impossible fate, but she hoped they could manage. All they could do was try. 

Clarke picks up her pencil again, hoping to continue her drawing of Madi, but she can’t seem to focus. Even with their newfound peace and free time, she sometimes struggles. She would feel terrible to voice it outloud, but sometimes she finds herself longing for the past. At least then, there was always a task, always a mission. She was never sitting still long enough to think. Now she has all the time in the world to think, and her thoughts are rarely easy. During the nights, she tosses and turns, memories flooding through her in waves. The memories latch onto her dreams, transforming them into nightmares in almost every instance.

Clarke’s nightmares sometimes stayed with her, even when she’s awake and walking among the living. They are the moments she’ll carry with her to her grave, the weight of the guilt from too many decisions to count. Killing over 300 grounders and killing Finn. Letting the bomb drop on TonDC. The genocide at Mt. Weather. The man she sacrificed in Becca’s lab. But more than the guilt from everything she’s done in the name of saving her people was the raw fear that had seeped into her since she landed back on Earth. Memories of fear for her loved ones, moments in which she had been helpless. Lexa’s death, in front of her own eyes and unable to stop it. Fear for Madi, when she had taken the Flame and almost died at the hands of Sheidheda. 

Then there was the fear for herself. It was a primal kind of fear, not a noble one, but it was the kind of fear that paralyzed her most. The moment she woke up in Becca’s lab, realizing she had survived praimfaya but was utterly and completely alone in the world. The moment she realized that she had left Bellamy to die in Polis, that she would never see him again and had no one to blame but herself.

The worst, the fear that drenched her body in coldness when she thought about it, was dying at the hands of the Primes. More so than the memories of fighting Josephine in the mindspace, it was the moments leading up to it that haunted her the deepest. It was the lack of control. She had let herself be vulnerable with Cillian, let herself enjoy a single night for herself, and had paid the price for it. After Finn and Lexa, she should have known better than to think that she could allow herself the company of another. She had learned her lesson the hard way. 

Clarke can’t bear to think of the moment she lost feeling in her body. Numb, watching with wide eyes as they murdered Cillian in front of her. A prisoner in her own body as they brought her to a terrifying room, Russell’s face next to hers, murmuring useless words. It was the moment she knew she was going to die. She had thought of her mother, who needed her more than ever. She had thought of Madi, who she would never watch grow up. She had thought of Bellamy, and all the things he would never know. All the things she still wanted to say, that would die on her tongue along with her. She had never known fear like that. No one was coming to save her and she couldn’t hope to save herself. In that moment, it was over. She had not realized how badly she truly wanted to live, until it was no longer an option.

\--∞--

Clarke sits at the fire later that night, eating dinner with the rest of the group. It’s a small dinner, given that the farm hasn’t had a chance to produce anything substantial yet, but it’s still more than the meager rations they received on the Ark. Miller, Jackson, Raven, Echo, Murphy, and Emori sit around the fire, the same group of people who share housing in her section. Even Octavia is sitting with them tonight, next to Miller. She chose to settle near Indra and Gaia, a gesture to give Bellamy the space that he needs, but she comes around often now. The Blakes’ relationship seems to mend more with each day.

“Where’s Madi?” Bellamy asks, sitting down on the wood bench beside her. He doesn’t leave more than a foot between them.

“She ate earlier,” Clarke explains. “She has her own friends now, she’s too cool to hang out with us,” she jokes.

Bellamy chuckles, smiling softly at her before looking back down at his plate.

Bellamy had been a constant in Clarke’s life since they landed back on Earth. It’s not that they hadn’t spent time together in Sanctum, but that had felt different. They were working together, had missions to complete and people to save. They had been separated when Bellamy was searching for Octavia, and even when they weren’t, they barely had time to catch their breaths.

Things were different now. They had time to chat. They had time to sit next to one another, talking about useless things or saying nothing at all, enjoying each others’ company in a comfortable quiet.

Clarke still loves him, now more than ever. She still longs for his lips on hers, to be held in his arms. Some days, when she’s feeling particularly bold, she imagines what it would be like to tell him. But despite the fact that Echo and him had ended things long before they landed back on Earth, the fear always stops her. After so many years apart and so much heartache and hardship in the short month between uniting and landing back on Earth, she couldn’t bear to risk the easy comfort that she now had with him. 

\--∞--

Hours later, Clarke wanders back out to the fire. It’s late and no one else is out there, the fire burning lower now, but Clarke can’t sleep. She prefers to wait until she’s so tired that she can’t keep her eyes open, lest she toss and turn while her mind goes into overdrive. Sitting cross-legged on the same bench she ate dinner at, she pulls out her notebook and begins to draw, reveling in the sound of crackling fire and the sight of the stars above her.

Clarke is so focused, she doesn’t hear him approach her. 

“What are you drawing?” Bellamy asks, standing a few feet from her with his hands in his pockets. 

Clarke startles, looking up at him. He laughs softly at her surprise as he sits down next to her.

“Hi,” she says quietly, offering her own smile in return.

“So?” Bellamy prompts.

Clarke has half a mind to lie, to save herself from embarrassment, but she’s suddenly too tired to waste energy on such things.

“You,” she answers wearily, sneaking a glance at him.

He seems truly surprised by the answer. “Oh?”

Clarke laughs lightly. “I don’t know why, I was just thinking, and-” she cuts herself off, passing him the notebook. “Do you recognize it?”

She’s not sure if she hopes he does or doesn’t. His eyes sweep over her drawing and Clarke watches every movement of his face carefully, the orange firelight illuminating it. Some unidentifiable emotion passes across his face like a shadow.

“It’s the night- it’s after Dax,” Bellamy says, looking at her curiously as he passes the notebook back to her. His tone holds no uncertainty. “That was a terrible night,” he adds.

“Yeah, it was,” Clarke agrees. “There were a lot of terrible nights,” she muses. “But that night...I don’t know. I guess it was the first time I felt like I really saw you, or really knew you. The first time I didn’t feel alone down here.”

Bellamy shakes his head, as if in disbelief. “You were never alone, Clarke. You had Wells and Finn, Jasper and Monty-”

“It’s not the same,” she cuts him off. “I felt...I felt like I was alone in trying to keep people safe. Like everything was up to me. Even though we had agreed to make decisions together before this day, this was the first night I was sure I could trust you.”

Bellamy raises his eyebrows. “You felt like you could trust me, on the day you found out I was planning to leave? I was a coward that night, Clarke.” There isn’t any self-pity in his voice. He says it as if he’s simply stating any other fact. 

“You didn’t leave,” she argues. “You stayed.” She wonders how they can remember the night so differently.

He’s quiet for a beat. “For you.”

“For Octavia, for all of us,” Clarke agrees.

“No,” he retorts, his voice wrapped in something strange. “For you,” he repeats, with more conviction this time. “I- You know, I almost asked you to run.”

Clarke holds her breath at the revelation, her heart pounding erratically.

“I was going to ask you to come with me,” Bellamy says again, as if she didn’t understand him the first time. “But you made me want to be brave. You made me want to face things. That’s what you do, what you’ve always done, Clarke. You make me better.”

Clarke shakes her head at that, breaking herself free from the strange trance his words locked her in. “You were good all on your own, Bellamy. You’re telling me that our friends would have survived six years in space without you?” 

Bellamy says nothing, turning away from her heavy gaze to face the fire.

“No,” Clarke continues. “ _ You _ did that. Only you could have done that.”

Bellamy drums his fingers on his thigh before finally turning to face her again. “Do you want to go for a walk?”

It wasn’t what she expected him to say, but she nods without hesitation.

\--∞--

Clarke and Bellamy walk quietly side by side until the village and surrounding houses are in the distance, marked only by several low burning fires throughout the area. The sounds of the forrest hum ahead of them, but they stop in the meadow that Clarke spent the afternoon drawing in. She follows Bellamy’s lead when he sits down, gazing up at the clear sky full of stars. Clarke looks up too, thinking about how their home is still up there, floating like an empty tomb. Although she supposes it was always supposed to be temporary. Her ancestors had dreamed of a final journey to the ground, and they had finally made it. 

“Do you ever miss it?” she asks, eyes still on the sky.

“No,” he replies immediately. “But I suppose I had more time to enjoy it,” he jokes. 

Clarke laughs, lying down on her back. Bellamy does the same. 

“Not to mention, it wasn’t a great experience the first time around,” he adds.

Clarke considers that. She does miss it sometimes, in its simplicity at least. It was her home for a long time, no matter what her ancestors intended. It was where she grew up, where her parents raised her. It was where she lost her father. It truly was her home, she thinks. But then she turns her head to take in the man next to her and knows it was never so simple. For a long time now, she hasn’t known a home that wasn’t Bellamy. It was the reason that even in her six years of peace with Madi, it never truly felt like peace. How could it be, when her eyes anxiously searched the sky for him, day after day? You can’t be content when your life is defined by waiting. 

“Do you think if we hadn’t come down to the ground, we would have ever known each other? Become friends?”

“No,” he answers honestly. “I don’t.”

Clarke’s eyes rake over him, taking in his frame. The way she can see his chest rising and falling, even with only the moonlight illuminating them. “I guess I’m kind of lucky then, in spite of everything. I can’t imagine a life without you in it.”

“Clarke,” he starts, turning to face her. He seemingly startles when he finds her already looking at him.

“Yeah?” she murmurs.

She hears him swallow thickly before continuing. “I don’t think I’ve been such a coward since that night, since the night with Dax, until these last months.”

Clarke furrows her brow at that. “Well, I don’t think much bravery is needed in times like these. We should take advantage of it.”

Bellamy sits up, shaking his head as if frustrated. He gazes ahead, arms wrapped around his knees.

Clarke sits up too, scooching closer to him and bumping her shoulder with his. “What’s wrong?” she whispers.

“What’s wrong is that, it’s been months since I’ve run out of excuses for why I shouldn’t tell you how I feel, and yet, I haven’t been able to bring myself to.”

Clarke holds her breath at his words. 

“Bellamy,” she prompts, her voice weak. He finally turns to face her and she wishes it weren’t so dark, so that she could read what his eyes hold.

Clarke waits for him to continue, but he doesn’t, only stares back at her. She unconsciously leans closer, gravitating towards him on instinct. A second that holds an eternity passes before Bellamy closes the distance, pressing his lips to hers with a sigh, as if he’s giving up on something.

Their lips move gently at first, almost cautiously, until Clarke can’t help but run her fingers through his hair and gives him a gentle tug closer to her. His arms wrap around her waist and his tongue breaks through her lips, licking into her until she feels like her entire body is humming with something like electricity. Clarke leans back, falling to the ground and pulling Bellamy down on top of her. Their lips break apart momentarily, her legs spreading open on their own accord to make room him. His hands -  _ Bellamy’s  _ hands, she thinks with a thrill - move under her shirt, brushing the soft skin of her stomach before they move to squeeze her sides. 

“Bellamy,” she gasps into his mouth. 

Bellamy’s lips leave hers and graze across her skin of her throat, leaving a trail of heat in their path. 

“Clarke,” he whispers, lips against her ear as his hands run down the outside of her thighs.

His voice sounds so wrecked that she finds herself grinding down against his knee, a craving for him taking over every rational thought inside her. Bellamy gasps, breath shallow as he begins to press hot, open mouth kisses down her jaw and neck. His weight is heavy on her, and suddenly, as his hands move back up under her shirt in the dark, it’s too much.

She doesn’t know where it comes from, the panic that rises in her throat. She can’t. She can’t let him pull her into somewhere she can’t think straight, somewhere she can’t protect herself. Feeling short of breath, she gasps, choking on the air she tries to inhale as she pushes Bellamy off of her.

Bellamy pulls away immediately, his face shocked and vulnerable. He somehow looks more affronted than when she slapped him before leaving him to the fighting pits, but his eyes are laced with concern and guilt instead of betrayal.

“Clarke, I’m sorry, I-”

“No,” Clarke shakes her head, sitting up and still struggling to breathe. “It’s okay,” she assures him, but when Bellamy reaches for her, she flinches away from him without knowing why. His expression breaks her heart, so full of worry.

“I’m sorry, it’s not-” she breaks off, stumbling on her words as she rises to her feet. “I’m sorry,” she repeats, walking away from him before he can even stand upright. 

“Clarke, stop. Let’s just talk,” he pleads. 

“I can’t,” she whimpers, walking further away from him. 

“Don’t do this, Clarke,” he tries again, but she keeps going, leaving him in the meadow alone.

She half expects him to chase after her, and is thankful when he doesn’t.

\--∞--

Clarke lays in bed, staring at the wood ceiling in the dark and thinking of the hurt on Bellamy’s face when she pushed him away. She feels terrible, embarrassed by her behavior but not so much that it washes away the fear still lurking under the surface. How she wishes she could crawl out of her own skin. The terrible irony of it is that it’s Bellamy who always makes her feel safe. Even now, it’s Bellamy who she wants to comfort her, despite that it was the weight of his body that sent her into a panic. It was all too much, and yet all she can think is that it’s Bellamy she goes to when she needs someone to help her carry a burden. In fact, with Bellamy it was never just her burden, it was  _ theirs _ . 

Clarke leans over her bed, picking up her notebook off the ground and lighting the lantern. She traces the shape of him in her drawing with her finger, unable to deny how her heart aches for him. Whatever insanity that she’s feeling, she doesn’t need to be alone with it. He stayed. Bellamy had stayed for her, that night and so many times after. 

Clarke blows out the lantern again and quickly climbs out of bed, sliding on her shoes. She stops briefly to check on Madi, sleeping soundly in the bed in the next room before quietly leaving her cabin. The fire has burned down to embers, the houses all dark, as she nearly runs to Bellamy’s cabin. She inhales once, attempting to collect herself, before knocking quietly on his front door.

It can’t be more than ten seconds before Bellamy opens the door. He doesn’t look the least bit groggy, and it’s clear that she wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been able to sleep.

“I’m sorry,” she starts, stepping inside before he can invite her in. “I’m sorry, I-. I-” She isn’t sure where to even begin in explaining everything weighing her down. 

“Hey,” he says firmly, taking her face in his large hands. She leans into his touch. “I’m not going anywhere, Clarke. Let’s just talk. We don’t have to rush things, we don’t have to- will you just stay?”

Clarke nods feebly, swallowing thickly. His hands drop from her face and he offers one to her. She takes it, clasping it tightly to stop herself from shaking as he leads her over to his bed. They lay down next to one another, facing each other but leaving a few feet between them. Bellamy reaches out, running the back of his fingers gently across her cheek before pausing to cup her face in his hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he murmurs.

“I’m in love with you,” she confesses, ignoring his question. Because more than anything, she needs him to know that. She needs him to know that no matter how insane she feels, that is her truth, at her core. The rest of her feelings she can sort through, as long as they start there. His lantern is illuminating the room just enough for Clarke to catch the warm smile that spreads across his face.

“I love you too,” he says quietly. “I kind of forgot that part earlier.”

Clarke laughs, placing her own hand over the one he still has on her cheek. The warmth of him steadies her, calms her. In the meadow, she had let her memories haunt her. But this is Bellamy.

Clarke sighs. “I think I panicked because last time time I...the last time I was in that position, that I let my guard down, was when Russell took me.”

“Clarke…” He sounds heartbroken.

A tear trickles down Clarke’s face. They’ve never talked about this. She’s never talked about it with anyone. 

“I was so afraid. So terrified. I was paralyzed, had no control over any inch of my body but could watch everything that was unfolding in front of me. I knew exactly what was going to happen and was at their mercy and I was so...powerless. No matter how hopeless a situation has ever been, there was always  _ something _ I could do. I could always try. But I was nothing in that moment. I feel like I’ve been subconsciously guarding myself ever since. I could feel my walls slipping away with you and I tonight, and I just...I know, it’s crazy.”

“No, not at all,” he assures her. “I understand.”

“You know, I don’t have a good track record when it comes to people loving me.” She tries to keep her voice light, make it a joke, but it cracks instead.

“Well, I’m still here. And I can assure you, me loving you is nothing new.”

Clarke doesn’t answer. She isn’t sure what to say, so she closes the distance between them and turns around, pressing her back against his chest. She feels him press a chaste kiss to the top of her head.

In spite of everything she just told him, she’s acutely aware that she’s never felt more safe than in this moment, wrapped in Bellamy’s arms. She’s suddenly bewildered at how she could have felt anything but safe with him. Wasn’t it always Bellamy who saved her? 

Bellamy saved her heart, her soul, everytime he lightened her burden. It was Bellamy who stayed by her side in the mountain when Lexa had abandoned her. 

_ I bear it so they don’t have to _ , she had told him. Except, she never bore it alone, not really. Because he wouldn’t let her pull the lever alone and after, he had let her go, when it was the last thing he wanted. In fact, the only reason she  _ could  _ go, was because she knew Bellamy would be there, holding her weight.

It was Bellamy who she spoke to on the radio everyday, because it was him alone that could steady her soul in the worst moments. Even knowing that he probably couldn’t hear her, the idea alone that he might come back to her one day had kept her sane. It was why she fought to live and it was why she knew she could. 

And how could she think that she couldn’t give herself to him, that she couldn’t let her walls down with him? It was Bellamy she trusted with her body countless other times. There was no one else she would trust to protect her body when she went into the city of light. It was only his hand in hers that steadied her, just as his body does now.

Despite how the memories of Russell kidnapping her grip her with fear, wasn’t it Bellamy who found her when she was lost in her own body? Wasn’t it Bellamy that pulled her back from almost certain death? Wasn’t it Bellamy who told her to fight, who brought her back with his own breath? Bellamy was the reason she was alive, countless times over.

If she’s ever lost, unable to carry on herself, there is no one she trusts more with her heart, her soul, her body, than Bellamy. There will be times that she has no control, just like she didn’t when Russell took her, but she trusts that when she does fall, Bellamy will bring her back. He’ll always come back for her. 

Clarke presses herself impossibly closer to him, feeling foolish over her anxiety. It was  _ Bellamy _ , and there was no one on Earth or beyond who she could trust with the most vulnerable parts of her. She turns around so that her chest is pressed against his and leans into kiss him, taking her time. When she pulls away, she sees the question in his eyes.

“I changed my mind,” she whispers, leaning in to press a kiss to his jawline. She can feel his body tense in response.

“Are you sure?”

She is sure, of course she is. She  _ trusts _ him and that’s what it all comes back to, isn’t it? She had trusted him to bear the burden of Earth with her. She had trusted him with her heart long before now, long before she even realized she had. She had trusted him to protect her body, to save her body. She could trust him to love her too.

“More than anything,” she murmurs. 

Her words flip a switch and Bellamy reacts immediately, their soft kisses transforming into something primal. They’re impatient after holding back for years, both more desperate than Clarke even realized. Clarke rolls onto her back, pulling Bellamy on top of her. This is how she needs him now, blanketing her body with his.

Bellamy kisses her thoroughly, their tongues exploring each others’ mouths until Clarke can barely breathe. When he finally pulls up for air, he wastes no time kissing down her jaw, down her neck, his lips blazing. Clarke’s hands move under his shirt, desperate to feel his warm skin. He pauses, hissing into her neck when she does before breaking away to pull his shirt off. She takes advantage of the moment, quickly pulling her own off. By the time she unclips the back of her bra, Bellamy’s hands are on her again, helping to pull the bra off of her. 

His hands grip her waist, thumbs stroking her soft stomach as he stares down at her. 

“What?” she questions, biting down on her bottom lip to try to control the ridiculous smile she feels fighting its way to the surface.

Bellamy makes no effort to hold in his own smile and she can see the white of his teeth in the dark. He shakes his head a little, like he can’t believe his reality. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he says finally. “I have lived on Earth, and in space, and seen other planets, and nothing compares to this, to you.”

“You’re so cheesy,” she scolds him, but her smile contradicts her tone. “Would you come back here?”

Bellamy quickly leans down again to kiss her, his hands moving up to hold her breasts, caressing them softly and running his rough thumb over a nipple. She closes her eyes, unable to stop herself from moaning into his mouth as she arches her body against his. 

Her eyes open when his lips leave hers and she nearly complains until she feels his mouth working its way down her chest, leaving bruising kisses on each breast before taking a nipple into his mouth. She grabs onto his hair, pulling it tighter than she intended to in an effort to hold onto anything at all, but she doesn’t think he minds given the growl it elicits from him.

“More,” she pants, the word coming out as a desperate plea. “I need more.”

“I’ve got you, baby,” he promises, pressing a few kisses down her stomach before he begins unbuttoning her pants.

_ Baby _ . She nearly laughs at the word coming out of Bellamy’s mouth, at the idea of Bellamy calling her anything close to that. But her body craves it. She can tell by the fresh surge of wetness she feels, her underwear surely soaked by now. 

“Say it again,” she pleads as she lifts her hips, Bellamy pulling off her pants.

“Say what?” he asks before pressing his lips to her inner thigh. 

And God, why is she even more turned on by the fact he didn’t even realize he said it? That it rolled off his tongue naturally, like the name has always belonged to her.

“Baby.”

Bellamy looks up at her from where he’s settled between her thighs, the smile he’s wearing nearly amused. 

“Baby,” he echoes in a whisper, before pressing his lips to her thigh again, so close to where she wants him, needs him. 

“Baby,” he repeats, pressing a kiss to her opposite thigh, even closer this time. 

Clarke grips the sheets to keep herself from bucking her hips up, her body growing desperate for him.

“ _ Bellamy _ ,” she scolds, making it clear that she’s done being teased.

He doesn’t seem to hold any more patience than she does, because he’s pulling her underwear down and off before she even finishes saying his name. She can feel his hot breath against her bare lips, wet and desperate for him. Her body nearly shatters when he presses his tongue flat against her, sweeping slowly up her entrance. He takes hold of both of her legs, pulling her closer to him and holding her down as his tongue finds her clit, tracing tantalizing circles around it. 

Clarke whimpers and she can feel Bellamy shudder at the sound, can see him snap his hips against the bed, desperate for friction. He licks into her at a relentless rate, his tongue diving in and out of her until she’s nearly dizzy with desire. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ fuck, Bellamy-” Clarke bites down on her lip as he sucks on her clit and presses his index finger into her. He barely strokes her twice before she’s falling, moaning his name as pleasure washes over her so intensely that she squeezes her eyes shut at the sensation. 

By the time she comes to and opens her eyes, Bellamy is hovering over her again, cupping her breasts and kissing her sloppily. She can taste herself in his mouth and the thought of it drives her wild. Her hands fly to his pants, unbuckling them as quickly as she can manage with shaky hands. He takes over, climbing off her briefly to pull them off, a bit clumsily, and his underwear go with them. 

Clarke wishes she had more time to look at him, to appreciate every inch of him, but she’s desperate to feel him inside of her and pulls him over her again. 

He kisses her and she can feel his length against her thigh. It’s driving her wild and she wishes either of them had the stamina for her to take him in her mouth, but it would have to wait. Tomorrow maybe. Or any day, really. She planned on having him for the rest of her life. 

“Fuck, baby,” he murmurs against her lips.

Time slows down as he presses his cock against her slit, still soaking. She feels like her body is scorching everywhere he touches her - his forehead pressed against hers, the hand on her waist and the other that’s holding her thigh. She gasps when he presses into her, every inch of her overwhelmed at the sensation. 

Bellamy doesn’t stop until he’s completely inside of her, pelvis pressed against hers and chest brushing her breasts. She feels him everywhere, setting her nerves on fire as he pants shallow breaths against her cheek. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, pulling his face back to look at her. 

Her heart swells.  _ Bellamy. It’s so Bellamy _ .

Clarke nods, unable to form words, and wraps her legs tighter around him. He understands her plea, his own face strained from holding back as he begins to move. Her body tightens with every snap of his hips and his face moves to the crook of her neck, his breath hot against her skin as he pants with every thrust. His hands don’t stop exploring her, moving everywhere from up her thighs and waist to across her breasts and under her, soothing her back as he presses her closer against him.

_ This is what it’s supposed to be _ . It’s the only coherent thought Clarke’s mind can form. Because it’s never been like this, not for her. So beautiful, so relentless and delicious, so safe yet so tremendous. They don’t say anything as he continues to slide into her, his pace increasing at a steady rate. Their bodies moving against each other is the only language they need. 

_ I love you _ , he says with the press of his fingers into her skin.

_ I love you _ , she says, pressing her lips against his cheek. It’s barely a kiss, just another way to touch him. To bring her closer to him. 

Clarke holds off as long as she can manage, not wanting the moment to end, but she has no choice as he snaps his hips harder. She’s at his mercy as he continues to hit the spot deep inside of her that makes her toes curl.

“Bellamy,” she pants. She’s not even sure what she’s asking for but he doesn’t let up. He only moves faster until she’s digging her nails into his back in a desperate attempt to hang on.

“Clarke,” he breathes, pulling his face up and looking into her eyes. She stares up at him, feeling him throb inside her and finally, lets go. Falling through space and time, her body tingling from her head to toe, from inside out. 

Bellamy growls, thrusting into her erratically. He buries himself deep inside her before he finally lets go, his whole body shuddering as he spills into her. He drops his face to the crook of her neck again, panting as he tries to catch his breath. 

Clarke lightly trails her fingers across freckled back as she comes down from her high, feeling like she’s floating on a cloud. She’s not sure she’s ever felt so satisfied, so content, so happy or safe. Bellamy presses up onto his forearms and leans in to kiss her. It’s slow, unhurried. 

“Love you,” he murmurs again.

“I love you.”

He laughs lightly as he moves to get off of her. “Sorry, I’m crushing you-”

“No!” Clarke pleads, sounding more desperate than she intended as she holds him against her. 

Bellamy laughs again, sinking back into her embrace, still inside of her. 

“Just another minute,” she hums, pressing her lips against his shoulder. 

“Okay,” he whispers, pressing his own lips against her cheek. She thinks he means to kiss her, but she can feel his smile against her skin instead.

They spend a few more minutes like that, hands running over each other and pressing random, lazy kisses against any part of the other they want to.

_ He’s hers now. _ It’s a thrilling thought. 

Eventually they do move. He climbs off of her so they can clean up and pours her a glass of water, which he brings back to the bed she’s waiting for him in. She lays on her side, head propped on her hand as she watches him, eyes sweeping over his naked form.

Bellamy smirks when he hands her the water, knowing exactly what she’s thinking. She shrugs, unashamed as she downs the water and he climbs back into the bed beside her. She rolls over, curling into his side when she sets the glass down. 

Resting her head against his bare chest, she absentmindedly drums her fingers against his chest. “So...that happened.”

Clarke can feel the rumble of Bellamy’s responding laugh against her cheek. She shifts so that she can look up at him, head still resting on his chest. 

“So it did,” he replies. His smiling widely, his expression nearly giddy. 

She keeps staring up at him, their silence comfortable as he combs his fingers through her blonde waves. The feeling is so soothing that she can’t help but close her eyes. 

“Clarke.”

She hums in response, but doesn’t open her eyes.

“ _ Baby _ ,” he tries. Clarke smirks, opening her eyes to find Bellamy giving her a teasing smile.

“You like it,” she says cheekily.

“I know, I started it.”

Clarke giggles, turning her face to press a single kiss to his chest. 

“Yes, Bellamy?”

He takes one of her hands, interlacing his fingers with hers, the pads of them slowly grazing her hand as he does. “I love you,” he tells her, not a trace of teasing in his tone.

Clarke’s heart lurches at his words and she sits up enough so that she can press a slow kiss to his lips, never letting go of his hand. She pulls away, but only by a few inches. 

“You’re cheesy,” she teases.

“You like it.” His smile is nearly boyish, reminding her of the boy who landed on Earth with her seven years ago.

Clarke nods. “I love it,” she tells him, using her free hand to run her fingers through is thick waves. “And I love you.”

Kissing him once more, she settles back down with her cheek against his chest and he resumes running his fingers through her hair. Her last coherent thought before she drifts off to sleep is that she never plans to spend another night without him. 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a day and barely proof read because I was too impatient so apologies for any typos.


End file.
